Caroline smiled. “Not really. I hear your fish tacos come highly recommended. Extra avocado.”
"Lemme guess – Finn Calder sent you?" Lila grinned and she blushed traitorously. "Well he's right about the tacos. Caught this morning, in your belly tonight – can’t get fresher.”
As Lila moved away to place the food order and attend to other customers, Caroline took the opportunity to observe The Dune Deck more carefully.
Unlike the carefully curated "coastal chic" restaurants in other New England tourist destinations she'd visited, this place felt genuinely lived-in. The mismatched chairs, the scuffedfloorboards, the collection of local photographs covering one wall – all suggested a business that had grown organically over decades rather than being designed by a marketing team.
Through wide windows overlooking the water, fishing boats with the day's catch were silhouetted against the darkened sky. A few die-hard beach-goers lingered on the sand, collecting shells or simply walking along the shore as the light disappeared. The view alone was probably worth a fortune in real estate value, Caroline thought, her professional instincts automatically calculating potential returns on investment.
Lila returned, setting a small dish of marinated olives beside Caroline's wine glass. “To get you started," she said with a wink. "Tacos will be up in a few. So, how are you finding our little island so far?"
"It's beautiful," she answered honestly. "Different from what I expected."
"Let me guess – you thought it would be all yacht clubs and overpriced boutiques?" Lila laughed. "That's just what the summer people see. Real Nantucket's something else entirely."
"I'm beginning to realize that," Caroline admitted, thinking of Ellen's dress collection of stories and memories, and Finn's comments about the island's true heart.
"So how’d you know Finn then?" Lila leaned against the bar, her posture suggesting she had all the time in the world for conversation.
Caroline took a sip of wine to buy herself a moment. "He fixed a leak at the shop earlier, and when I asked for a local food recommendation, he mentioned this place."
"Finn’s great that way," Lila nodded. "Always ready to drop everything when one of the old-timers needs help." She refilled Caroline's wine glass without being asked. "His dad was the same way – salt of the earth, those Calder men."
"He mentioned studying engineering," Caroline said, aiming for casual interest while reaching for an olive. "Before coming back to the island prematurely.”
Lila's eyes crinkled with amusement, as if Caroline's attempt at subtlety was transparently obvious. "Full scholarship at Rhode Island. Would have made a fine engineer – has that eye for how things fit together." She polished a glass as she spoke. "But family comes first for Finn. Always has. When his mom got sick, there wasn't even a question of him staying away."
A man emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate that he set before Caroline – three tacos arranged on a blue ceramic dish, garnished with fresh cilantro and lime wedges. The scent of grilled fish and warm spices rose from the plate, making her stomach growl in anticipation.
"Graham, meet Ellen Doyle's niece," Lila said to the man. "Caroline from Chicago." Something in her expression softened when she looked at him, a private warmth that made Caroline glance away, feeling suddenly intrusive.
Graham nodded a greeting. "Welcome to the island. And the interrogation,” he added with a wink and Lila swatted him fondly away.
“The old man’s gone now too, but the Calder boys are permanent fixtures these days,” she continued, returning to their earlier conversation. "Finn runs the construction business now – best on the island, though don't tell him I said so. His rates are reasonable enough as it is. And his brother Logan manages The Harbor House hotel over on the north shore."
Caroline took a bite of her taco, the flavors exploding on her tongue – fresh fish enhanced with just the right balance of lime, spice, and creamy avocado. "This is amazing," she murmured.
"Told you," Lila said with satisfaction. "So what kind of finance do you do in Chicago?"
The question held no judgment, yet Caroline found herself choosing her words carefully. "I help businesses navigate transitions. Sometimes that means reorganization, sometimes acquisition, sometimes..." she hesitated.
"Closing up shop?" Lila supplied, her tone neutral.
"When necessary," Caroline acknowledged, somewhat guiltily.
Lila studied her for a moment. "Ellen's is special to a lot of people here. Those dresses she keeps – they're not just inventory. They're promises."
"I'm beginning to understand that," Caroline said, surprised by her own admission. "Though from a purely business perspective, it's an unusual model."
"The best things usually are," Lila shrugged. "Standard models are for standard experiences."
Caroline took another bite of her taco, considering this perspective. A comfortable silence fell as she ate, and Lila attended to other customers, returning occasionally to refill her wine glass or check on her meal.
When she’d finished eating, the proprietor reappeared, clearing the plate. "Room for dessert? Our key lime pie’s worth breaking whatever diet you city girls are following these days."
"I couldn't," Caroline said, patting her lips with a napkin. "But thank you. Everything was delicious. I’ll be sure to tell Finn he was right about the tacos. And thanks for the extra avocado.”
Lila's eyes danced with amusement. "Finn has a running tab of favors with half the businesses on this island," she explained. "Fixes my walk-in freezer compressor twice a year, never lets me pay him. Extra avocado's the least I can do." She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "Single, too in case you were wondering.”
